


Too On

by TheMostCareful



Category: Real Person Fiction, Tennis RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Ritual Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 21:43:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9290813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMostCareful/pseuds/TheMostCareful
Summary: How many friendships in the world could resist everything that these two have gone through? The bond between Andy and Novak not only survived, but got stronger over the years. Unable to hold grudges against each other no matter how many reasons they have for doing so, Andy and Novak found themselves increasingly fond of each other in 2016.Organised in six parts:CaliforniaMadridRomeParisRio de JaneiroLondon





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Break the Rules with Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/843150) by [Margaery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Margaery/pseuds/Margaery). 



> The title of this work is a reference to a song by Tinashe. According to her, it describes that feeling when you're just too caught up in something, having too good a time to care about anything else. Which accurately describes what will happen here.
> 
> You don't have to read my previous work ("2015 Was a Strange Year") to understand this one, but it is a continuation of that. I should also point out that this story takes place in the AU created by the person mentioned above, although it is not related to their work.
> 
> 70% porn, 30% feelings (but the feelings only come into play after a while). Also, Andy Murray is HOT.
> 
> Enjoy.

_Andy_

_He can be a bastard sometimes, but he's a nice bastard. I like him._

 

That was the perfect definition for Novak. Nice bastard. It suited him in every possible way. He could be a jerk when he wanted to, but he was equally capable of being sweet and selfless. Andy had always had mixed feelings about his best-friend-turned-frequent-nemesis, but what Novak had done for him some weeks earlier few others would have done. He didn't remember the whole thing very well, as he was very emotional, but the one thing he did remember was Novak's reaction. Andy had expected him to protest and raise objections, but he didn't.

 

"Of course, Andy, I understand."

 

After the previous year Andy was finding it hard to believe that his friend sincerely cared about him, but that gesture meant the world to him. Novak had done nothing wrong, none of Andy's issues had anything to do with him, and he had the right to demand what he deserved, but he didn't. He quickly conceded.

 

"England is where you need to be right now. You don't have to explain yourself to me, Andy. It's fine. Go."

 

Nothing could've made him happier after being given his fifth fucking runner-up plate in Melbourne. The Australian Open was a constant source of frustration for Andy, and it was the place where his relationship to Novak was under the most stress. He had been the villain four of those five times. On three previous occasions Andy had needed to bow down to him and submit to his will. He always took comfort in the fact that Novak was by no means an _enemy_. Against all odds, their friendship resisted. But still, he had enough runner-up plates for a sizeable family to eat on. That sucked. And the 2016 loss had been the worst of all.

 

Thousands of kilometres away, his child was about to be born and he had opened hand of being there in the final stages of Kim's pregnancy so he could go to Australia. Had it been worth it? No, because he had lost the bloody final **again**. And the last straw was the ritual. When he decided that he would ask Novak for a rain check, his pessimistic side immediately surfaced. Andy was convinced that he would get "no" for an answer.

 

But Novak is a complex person. The very last thing that Andy expected to hear was "that's OK, I get it". He didn't even have to give him all the reasons he had spent so long coming up with. He thought about saying that his mind wasn't in the right place, that he was an emotional wreck at the moment, that after all those years of friendship he deserved to be granted one favour, among several other arguments, but he didn't have to use any of them. Novak took him by surprise.

 

"If it was the other way around, I'm sure you would do the same thing for me. Go, Andy. You don't want to miss your flight. Let me know how it went."

 

Whatever traces there were of resentfulness and rancour in Andy's heart, vanished instantly. He had struggled with the question "why am I unable to hate Novak" in the past, but never before had he had such a clear answer right in front of him.

 

"Thank you, Novak. Thank you so much", was all he managed to say. After hugging Novak a lot more tightly than he anticipated, he left, promising that he would totally keep his side of the bargain eventually. A cheeky "I know you will" in his usual boyish tone was all Novak said.

 

Remembering all that two months later made Andy feel a bit embarrassed. Was it really that bad? Did I really have to beg that way? No, he wasn't overreacting. Everything had turned out okay but he still recalled perfectly well the desperation he felt that day. Thank **God** it was Novak. Nobody else would've been so forgiving. Nobody else. Nobody.

 

So when Andy saw him walking down the corridor, obviously surprised by his presence, he involuntarily smiled. Novak returned the smile, but quickly looked down, almost as if he knew what was going to happen. He probably did.

 

"Well, finally. What took you so long?", Andy asked.

"I lost the first set."

"Yes, I know that. But why?"

"I don't know..... I get nervous too, it was the first match of the tournament, I'm the defending champion, everybody is..." Novak stopped talking after seeing that Andy had closed his eyes and was pretending to be asleep.

"You done with that bullshit?"

"The kid played well."

"Oh, pfffft, Novak."

 

The two of them laughed for a while.

 

"How are you, man? Last time we talked you were... not in a very good place."

"I'm fine. Partly, thanks to you."

"Don't mention it."

"I'm serious. I owe you big time."

 

Awkward silences are a part of life, but the one that followed was more about familiarity. And it was cosy. But it couldn't last very long. There was work that needed to be done. Andy leaned in to Novak's ear, actively trying to avoid the passers-by, and whispered: "And I think I know how to return the favour".

 

"Oh, Andy, you don't hav..."

"Remember what I said I'd do if you ever tried to do that again?"

 

He did.

 

"But... you mean... like... now?" Novak hardly ever got embarrassed or uneasy, so it was **very** entertaining when he did.

"Why not? You're here, I'm here, and there's nobody in the locker rooms."

"Ahem... well, if you... if you think that... now's a good tim..."

"Follow me."

 

_Novak_

 

Andy started walking towards the locker rooms, making his way through the corridors determinedly. Novak was following him, but from a couple of steps. He didn't expect Andy to be so... resolved. He entered one of the locker rooms and Novak followed, but took a second to check if nobody had followed them or if there was a person randomly standing nearby, wondering what they were doing (that'd be weird to explain). After making sure they were alone, he finally locked the doors, but before he had time to turn around, Andy turned off the lights.

 

Being the world number one meant that the tournaments always made you play at night. Add to that the press conference and it was pretty late. Was it Monday already? Regardless of that, it was pitch black outside, and with the lights off, Novak couldn't see anything in the room. But he knew he wasn't alone.

 

"This is a first for me. Doing this so long after the actual match."

"Yeah, for me too", Novak replied.

"You know that, officially, I hate you, right?" Andy joked.

"Oh, do you? Well, there's nothing I can do about that, runner-up."

 

Insulting friends is the among the favourite pastimes of millions of men around the world, and Andy and Novak sometimes had fun that way.

 

"You know that you got lucky, right?"

"Which time?"

"Well, all of them. All... all... what is it? Five times?"

"It's actually six. Five is the number of times you lost."

"Are you keeping track? That's a new level of sucker."

"What if I am? Whatchu gonna do, runner-up?"

 

It was so dark that Novak wasn't sure about the exact distance between him and Andy, but he could tell that they were close. No other two people in the world could have the history that they had and still joke about it. And yet, here they were, in absolute darkness, having a laugh together while their fans engaged in endless arguments on the internet.

 

"I'll get you next year."

"That's what you said last year", Novak provoked him.

"And the year before that", Andy said before bursting into laughter. Who would've thought, upon seeing him two months earlier, that he'd be laughing at his own fails so soon? Novak liked to think it was his presence that made Andy comfortable enough.

 

Awkward silences are less awkward when there are no lights to reveal the facial expression on the other person. But it was clear that soon Andy was ready to cut the crap and get to... well, business.

 

_Andy_

 

The darkness was so complete that he had to touch Novak's shoulders just to properly locate where they were standing in relation to each other. Adjusting his position so they'd be facing each other directly, he stared at the nothingness ahead of him, seeing only the faint suggestion of a silhouette, as his eyes began to adjust to the absence of light, and kneeled. There was still a side of him that questioned why he was **so** comfortable doing this, but that could be ignored until later.

 

He gently massaged Novak's dick, which didn't take long to get hard, as per usual (he, too, enjoyed these a lot more than he liked to admit) and then pulled down his shorts. He took his time caressing it over Novak's underwear, not stopping until he was literally able to feel his heartbeat on his dick. The Serb himself pushed down his boxers, non-verbally asking for it. Why keep him waiting? He deserved it.

 

Andy didn't want to rush it, though. He grabbed Novak's dick and went around the glans with his tongue, performing circular motions that got it wet enough to drip before finally sliding in as much as he could without gagging. Using as much saliva as he could to facilitate the motion, he gradually increased the velocity, allowing Novak's penis to go in and out of his mouth time after time, sensing the increase in his heart rate. Soon Novak's hand was on the back of Andy's head, holding it in place while he thrusted, slowly at first, but with increasing urgency as they continued.

 

After the first few minutes, the gagging reflexes had all but vanished, and Andy was able to swallow all of Novak's penis, who couldn't keep quiet anymore. Initially it was just sighing, but audible moaning soon followed. It wasn't like him to be quiet, not on the court, not in these scenarios. His satisfied grunts worked as incentives to Andy, who tried to perform as many motions as he possibly could with his neck and head without allowing his teeth to touch Novak's penis. Turning sideways to allow him to thrust against the inside of his cheeks was one of the solutions he found, using his tongue as a "mattress" to provide even more friction.

 

Novak was getting louder and Andy thought about asking him to keep it down, but he liked the reinforcement. Novak had both his hands around Andy's head, and was muttering what sounded like gibberish at first, but Andy soon recognised as being words in Serbian. That could only be a good sign. He had even forgotten to speak English. Novak's penis was dripping with Andy's saliva, that had begun accumulating on the floor, which he felt when he touched it, trying not to lose balance against Novak's thrusting. Using his other hand, he grabbed Novak's balls and massaged them gently, being careful not to squeeze them too tight. He didn't want to give him any pain, just pleasure. He was surprised by how full they were, but soon it became evident that that would change. Novak warned him, but Andy already knew:

 

"I'm... I'm gonna cum."

 

Pretending that he hadn't heard it, Andy just kept sucking, making sure Novak got his full gratitude for what he had done in Melbourne. By the sounds he was now making, it was obvious to Andy that he had closed his mouth and was concentrating on trying not to cum, but to no avail. Soon after he exploded. Vocally, as well. It was a safe bet that every single swearword in the Serbian language was loudly uttered by Novak as he filled Andy's mouth with his cum. Novak climaxed for several seconds, and Andy patiently waited for him to be done, then used his fingers to squeeze out every last drop of it and only then did he swallow, doing so in one big gulp. The stench was unbearable, the taste, atrocious, but he did so anyway. Novak couldn't see it because of the darkness, but the obscene and relatively loud "gulp" that the liquid made when Andy swallowed it was definitely heard by him. Good. Andy wanted him to hear it.

 

Standing up, his eyes were pretty used to the darkness and it was possible to see Novak well. He had the exhausted, worn-out expression of someone that's just had an orgasm. He rubbed his wrist on his forehead, and only then did Andy notice that Novak was reeking of sweat. He felt a weird satisfaction that he really wasn't expecting to feel.

 

"Sisadžijo", Novak said.

"What?", Andy replied.

"Nothing. Doesn't matter. Wow! Holy shit, wow!"

"You stink right now."

"I'm sure you stink too", Novak said in a mischievous tone of voice that only he had. "Of something other than sweat, of course."

"Hmpf, jerk", was all Andy said as he looked around, deciding it was time to leave. It was best to keep these moments as short as possible.

 

Novak found a towel and a new shirt in his bag and then quickly dried himself and changed. Andy walked to the light bulb and turned the lights back on. They looked at each other and it was as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

 

"See you again next Sunday?", Novak suggested.

"Hopefully our roles will be reversed by then."

"You know I like a challenge."

"Who's going out first?" They always left the locker room a few minutes apart from each other, to avoid raising eyebrows in case there was anybody in the nearby corridors.

"You go first", Novak said. "I'm going to need a while to recover from this."

 

As Andy walked to the door, he briefly stopped, turned around, looked at Novak one last time. Good thing it wasn't anybody else in Melbourne. That would've been awful. Andy was a lucky guy. And he was grateful that his arch-nemesis was Novak. But he didn't need to know that.

 

"What are you staring at?", he asked.

"Goodbye, Novak" Andy said before leaving for good.


End file.
